


All Alone On Christmas

by Alchemist14



Series: The D'Herblay Diaries [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9069853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alchemist14/pseuds/Alchemist14
Summary: Christmas oneshot that popped into my head on Christmas Eve! It's a Musketeers AU with homeless Aramis and lots of fluff!





	

  
All Alone On Christmas

  
The streets were unsurprisingly bustling with activity, frazzled looking men rushing from shop to shop in desperate attempts to locate that perfect present, panicked faces illuminated by the warm glow of Christmas lights.

Aramis sighed miserably as he rubbed numb hands together, huddling further into the cardboard box he had managed to pilfer from the back of Harvey's department store, the lovely gaudy picture advertising that it had once held a child's bike. As much as he loved Christmas like any other person, over the years it had lost its appeal.

He glared balefully at the snow covered pavement, beeping from aggravated drivers assaulting his ears as he curled up carefully on his side in the soggy box and searched for sleep, determinedly ignoring the obnoxious rumbling from his stomach.  
\---------------------------

"Come on Athos!" Porthos cried, shoving his way through the crowds of people pushing their way violently into the department store that they were currently trying to leave, having had enough of the hordes of Christmas Eve shoppers.

He burst out into the crisp night air, his large frame having made easy work of parting the waves of people.

With a deep sigh of relief, he tugged on his leather jacket and turned to assess the progress of his best friend.

Unfortunately the smaller man was still stuck within the mass of shoppers, barely visible but for brief glimpses of his scruffy hair.  
He couldn't hold back the chuckle that escaped at the disgruntled expression on Athos' face, resigning himself to waiting on the pavement for him to arrive.

A sharp pain in the small of his back had him stumbling forward with a small cry of shock, only to bump into a woman with a pushchair who rammed it uncaringly into his knees.

"I'm sorry" he apologised, but she just shot him an angry glare and carried on her way, delivering a solid elbow to his side as she passed.

"That's it" he grumbled grumpily to himself as he rubbed at his sore ribs, "I have had it".

An agonising five minutes later and he had escaped into the relative quiet of a side alley, leaning his back against the brick wall behind him.  
He tipped his head back and smiled into the peace, which lasted for all of two seconds before his phone began ringing.

The first notes of 'I'm too sexy for my shirt' floated into the night air before Porthos managed to extract it from his pocket and answer, all the while vowing to kill D'artagnan when he next saw him

"Hello?"

"Where exactly are you?" came the grumpy voice of Athos down the phone

Porthos winced apologetically "First alley on your left, I got fed up of being attacked by pushy mothers"

"Right"

Sharp beeping filled his ear and Porthos shook his head ruefully as he put the phone away.  
After ten years of friendship he had become used to Athos' odd mannerisms, hanging up unexpectedly being one of them. Therefore he also knew that it meant he would be getting an earful when Athos arrived and by earful he meant silent reproachful glares, joy.

He stamped his feet and rubbed his hands together to combat the cold that was beginning to seep into his bones with the lack of movement, note to self wear a scarf next time because obviously a jacket and all the other clothes he had bundled himself and Athos into was not enough to combat the chill, "God Athos, hurry up" he muttered.

A low whimper floated through the air to him and he froze in his frantic movements, straining his ears for any other sign of life. Just as he was considering putting it down to his overactive imagination that the kids at the orphanage had loved, he heard a harsh cough and odd shuffling noises.

"There you are" a cultured voice suddenly came from behind him and Porthos jumped, startled.

"Jeez Athos don't do that! Give a man some warning next time"

"I hadn't realised you were so sensitive Porthos" Athos replied dryly, a smirk curling the edges of his lips.

"I'm not!" he responded indignantly, "I was listening for something"

That suddenly reminded him of the strange noises in the alleyway, and he quickly relayed what he had heard to Athos who sighed ruefully and shook his head.

"Well lets go and have a look, you aren't going to let me leave unless we do, or you would spend the evening moping and wondering what if" he teased.  
\---------------------------

This was worse than last year he decided, not by much, but definitely worse.  
At least last year he had been able to feel his fingers and his ratty blanket hadn't been quite so ratty back then, now it was so holey that it was more hole than blanket.

He whimpered miserably as a frigid wind blew into his little shelter, eviscerating any warmth he had managed to create and leaving him curled up in a little ball of misery as he tried to conserve heat. A tear rolled slowly down his cheek, leaving a burning trail in its wake which only made him cry harder when even that warmth left him.

He wasn't entirely sure why he was so upset, this was his life and had been his life for many, many years now and every winter he was cold and miserable so why today did it seem so much worse?

He distantly heard a voice from the direction of the main road, and felt a pang in his heart at the warm tone of the mysterious man, whose voice was soothing like honey to his wounded soul. If only it could do the same for his throat he wished as he coughed weakly against the tickling, and shuffled into a tighter ball.

Great he moaned internally, now im getting sick too, sick and alone on Christmas.

A new voice joined honey whom he dubbed posh and after a short conversation he heard footsteps and felt a wave of disappointment flood him, assuming they had decided it was too cold to hang out in a dirty deserted alleyway any longer, and the loss of those voices was like a physical ache for him.

Therefore he was extremely startled when the footsteps became louder and Honey let out a soft gasp followed by a curse. Posh was not far behind in exclamations of shock and Aramis couldn't help but wonder what it was that had startled them so much in this dark and dingy place he called home, for he would be the first to admit that nothing much was down here except for... him.

Suddenly a warm hand was pressed against his forehead followed by more, even more inventive curse words, and then someone was brushing his curls back from his face and running their fingers through them whilst another set of hands cupped his cheeks, and began to tap one gently. Posh began to gently call out to him and he realised that he was the one tapping his face, and the curse words had indeed been about him.

"Hey, can you hear me? Wake up Monsieur"  
\---------------------------  
After mock growling at Athos about his veiled insult, the two men slowly made their way further into the alleyway, wary of the fact that however pathetic the noises had sounded, it could all be a ploy by a very cunning murderer to lure in pathetic sods like themselves. Their footsteps seemed deafening as they wondered what they would find down the increasingly dark and spooky alleyway.

They squinted through the gloom and their eyes rested upon a sagging cardboard box, with an obnoxiously bright cartoon bike on the side and strangely enough, a foot.

'Wait what' Porthos thought in shock, 'a foot?'

Sure enough a small foot clad in a rather grubby holey sock was sticking out from the edge of the box, attached to a worryingly skinny leg. They came to a stop in front of the box and stared down at the young man curled up into a ball, coughing worryingly.

In a flash, Porthos was kneeling next to him, brushing his mop of dark curly hair back off his forehead and running his fingers through the matted locks in an attempt to provide some comfort.

"Athos he's burning up" he exclaimed in a hushed voice.

His stoic friend knelt beside him, uncaring for once of the dirt that would be infecting his linen trousers and cupped the young mans angular cheeks, tapping gently and calling out.

After a few tense moments a pair of bleary brown eyes blinked open and stared at them in shock, before he let out a hoarse cry of shock and scrambled back away from them, hands raised in defence.

"Stay back" he rasped in terror "what do you want from me?!"

"Shh, it's alright" Porthos soothed hands raised in a placating gesture, "I'm Porthos and this is my friend Athos, we just want to help"

Fear filled eyes stared at them as the man cowered against the walls of the box, tugging anxiously at the ends of his sleeves and tucking his hands into them.

"Aramis" came a soft whisper, as he pulled his knees up to his chest and eyed them suspiciously.

"Is that your name? Aramis?"

He nodded, curls flying.

"You're unwell Aramis, will you let us help you?"

They watched a myriad of emotions fly across Aramis' face as he contemplated their offer, before giving a tentative nod and closing stinging eyes to lean his head against the box tiredly. Porthos and Athos shared a glance of relief and the large man leant in and scooped up the skeletal man, prompting a squeak of surprise and frozen fingers gripped tightly to the collar of his leather jacket.

"Relax, we'll take care of you"

A soft sigh ghosted over Porthos neck as the sick mans head lolled against his chest, hair tickling his chin.

"I think he's asleep" Porthos whispered.

Athos leant forward to check and nodded in confirmation before they both made their way home, the man they had found in a box cradled in Porthos' arms.  
\---------------------------

Aramis sighed in bliss at the warmth that was surrounding him, he stretched leisurely on the mattress and immediately froze in shock. A cold, wet weight landed on his forehead and he startled, blinking his eyes open as it travelled down his neck.

"Are you awake?" Honey, no, Porthos he said his name was, asked quietly from his place sitting on the side of the bed.

He dropped the damp cloth he was holding and pressed a large hand to his forehead.

"You feel a lot cooler"

"Where am I?"

"Mine and Athos' flat, you had us both worried. You were sleeping for a long time, how are you feeling?"

"Really, really good" Aramis smiled broadly, sounding genuinely surprised at this fact.

"Well that's good, means you can celebrate Christmas with us" the big man grinned.

"Porthos... oh you're awake" Posh aka Athos exclaimed as he entered the room smiling, well smiling as much as Athos ever smiled.

"Why are you helping me?" Aramis asked quietly, avoiding their gazes "I'm just someone who was sleeping on the street, you don't even know me"

"Once you get to know Porthos you know he can't leave any stray behind, be that animal or man and besides you were even in a box, how could you expect him to resist!" Athos drawled dryly.

He couldn't hold back a giggle at that, and Athos swelled with pride at having provoked such a reaction.

"How long have you been on the streets?" Athos asked

"I think that this year would be the tenth" Aramis said slowly, "my mum died in 2006 and after that I went off the rails, couldn't cope and ended up on the streets. I wasn't a druggie or anything, I just couldn't do it!"

"It's alright, I understand" Porthos smiled softly at him, "that was me too, until Athos found me and helped"

"You were on the streets too!"

"Yes, it was after my mum died as well. So I understand the shame and the fear, but most of all the sadness, especially at Christmas"

Athos gently draped a blanket around the narrow shoulders of their new acquaintance, hands lingering comfortingly for a moment. The younger man startled at the display of affection, unused to it after so many years of living alone. He reached up with one long thin hand to grip the corner of the blanket, blinking in surprise at the soft velvety feeling.

"So you two are friends then?" he asked, gratefully accepting the warm mug of hot chocolate that Porthos pressed into his hand.

"We met at fifteen." Athos responded quietly,

"Porthos saved my life and with all the money my father had, it was the least I could do to give him a place to stay."

"He practically blackmailed me into staying with him, followed me around night and day, couldn't get rid of him" Porthos chuckled fondly, "so I gave in and we've been inseparable ever since"

Aramis cradled the cup between limp hands that lay in his lap and bent his head to stare fixedly at them, curly hair flopped all over his face as he tried to hide the tears that were welling up once more. It was so wonderful to see a friendship like theirs, and as terrible as he felt being jealous of such a marvellous thing, he was.

That was all he wanted in life.

The next moment he had his forehead pressed to a strong shoulder, a large warm hand cupping the back of his head.

"Wha.. What are you doing?" he asked in confusion.

"You looked upset" Porthos responded simply, remaining unmoving.

"Oh"

Silence reigned in the room for a few more moments before ragged sobs were drawn from Aramis' chest, shoulders shaking violently.

"I don't understand why you are doing this!" he cried "I can't... I can't do this! Just let me go home, I don't want to be here begrudging you your happiness and then having to go back to the streets... it would break me!

"Then don't" Athos whispered.

Aramis' head shot up in shock, wide brown eyes staring in disbelief at the two men in front of him, tears glistening in the lamplight.

"What?" he breathed

"Don't leave"

"I couldn't intrude, you don't even know me!" it came out slightly high pitched as he shook his head vehemently.

"We know enough to know that you're our kind of person, and besides, nobody ought to be all alone on Christmas." The two men chorused.

Not two minutes later, if one was to peer into the windows of a fourth floor apartment, they would be met with the heart warming sight of three young men gathered together, settled on a leather settee. One swaddled in an alarming amount of blankets and the others clad in cosy cardigans as they laughed and chatted. Mugs of hot chocolate clutched in their hands as stories of lives were swapped, getting to know each other in a wonderful Christmas evening.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Please let me know what you think and if you like it there may be more :D


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